


Brookyning

by econator



Category: Formula E RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: Brooklyn, Colombia Street, Crossdressing, M/M, Magic Shop, Shopping, Tarot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 18:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15646119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/econator/pseuds/econator
Summary: Jean-Eric and André explore Brooklyn's gay district together before the NY ePrix. Written to explain my head canon of how they both ended up with 'non-regulation underwear' fines. Pretty much all fluff.





	Brookyning

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, this wrote itself after reading https://uk.sports.yahoo.com/news/techeetah-formula-e-duo-vergne-062426546.html. My mind lives in the gutter. Sorry.
> 
> The music store mentioned is an instrument store, but in my head they have vinyls from obscure retro bands that crackle and pop when they’re being played. I’m pretty sure that’d appeal to André’s lifestyle aesthetic. I don’t know if the magic plant store has a resident tarot reader, but it’d be consistent with the vibe.

Jev smiled under the brim of his hat as they walked down Columbia Street in Brooklyn, glad the Stetson he’d bought as camouflage for this trip worked in hiding his identity. He squeezed André’s hand. André pressed a kiss into Jev’s knuckles, his motion rustling the paper bag of classic American rock vinyls in his other hand. _Battered old records is so his aesthetic. I was supposed to fall for someone ultra-glam, or at least trendy, instead of the king of shabby chic_. André stopped in front of a witchy plant store. He pointed at the chalk board advertising a tarot reader in that day, hanging the bag of vinyls from just his pinkie and ring finger.

‘Want to indulge your need for woowoo and check your title chances for this weekend?’

 _I can think of other things I want to put on that finger, if you’re willing to put aside your scepticism of spiritual things to help me get in the mood for this weekend_.

‘Sure.’

The man behind the register took André’s payment and directed them to the back of the store to see the day’s reader. Behind several shelves of potion ingredients, they found an older, butch woman sitting at a table. The Justice and Judgement cards were lying in front of her. She looked up at them, pointing to Judgement.

‘One of you is having rebirth, yes?’ She sounded almost comically like Red on OITNB, but Jev suppressed his giggle. André nudged Jev forward, and he sat in the chair opposite her.

‘I might achieve a big goal at work this weekend.’

‘You’re racers, yes?’

‘Yes.’

‘Subtle fucking billboards.’ She gestured her cards. ‘I’m used to more nuanced messaging from the Universe. You’ve come to ask if things look auspicious for you?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re in line to win the season?’

‘That’s what I want to know.’

She patted his hand.

‘Our friends across the border have a saying: big fish are worth fishing for, even if you don’t catch anything.’

_Fuck, that’s a no, isn’t it?_

‘Are you saying I won’t win?’

‘The cards rarely give a yes or no answer. You will be rebirthed, regardless of the outcome of the weekend.’

‘Rebirthed as a champion?’

She pointed at Justice. ‘People have done you wrong recently, yes?’

‘Yeah. I had a big win taken away from me because of a technicality.’

‘And you want to know how to get it back?’

‘Yes.’

‘Trust that justice will be done for you. This is the card of karmic retribution, so what you have put out will come back to you. Maybe not in the way you expect or hope for, but right will come back to you if you’ve been doing right.’

‘What’s my karmic record like at the moment? I’ve been putting out positive vibes for this title win. Is it showing?’

She drew a card, and looked at it before setting it down next to the others.

‘Seven of swords. What are you needing to lie or pretend about right now?’

Jev looked up at André, wondering how much he should tell her. She looked between them.

‘You can’t be open about your love at work?’

‘No. Pretty much.’

‘That card is a warning about how hard it can be to keep up a masquerade. If you’re due karmic retribution for the things done to you, make sure you don’t taint it by doing unkind things to others as you try to hide how you feel.’

‘So kindness. That’s the standard. I thought honesty was supposed to be brutal.’

‘Real honesty comes from love. Even hard conversations can be had with kind words. If honesty is brutal, it’s not real honesty.’

‘Fair enough, yeah.’ He played with the hem of his t-shirt. ‘So, what do I do to win this weekend?’

‘Be as much of yourself as you can be without getting into trouble. The rest of the time, be where you can be yourself, and don’t waste your valuable energy on pretending.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Do you take, shall we say, “decoy women” to the parties?’

Jev swallowed. They’d managed to dodge taking models as dates to the gala since the South American season ended, but the ones they’d taken earlier were all still commenting on his Instagram. André put his hand on Jev’s shoulder.

‘It’s kind of a rule.’

‘Break it. It’s unnecessary. Or don’t. It’s your life. Find a more subtle way to tell your story. Start a business together, or make some art. Have a metaphorical baby to show your commitment. Maybe start with a puppy, though. Something small.’

‘A line of sunglasses?’ André said.

‘Make them eco-friendly and socially responsible. Get a fulfilment centre to take care of the hard work. It’s small enough to be a creative puppy.’

André squeezed Jev’s shoulder.

‘We can do that.’

Jev interlaced his fingers with André’s, and grinned up at him.

‘While we’re here, what’s one thing we can work on to make our relationship better?’

The reader smiled and picked up her cards, shuffling them several times.

‘How long have you two been together?’

‘Almost nine months,’ Jev said, taking André’s hand and smiling up at him.

‘Ten months and two weeks by my count. We celebrate different anniversaries, because I’m more romantic than him.’

‘As long as you celebrate together. That’s the important part.’ She drew three and laid them face down on the table. She turned over the leftmost card, and fixed her eyes on Jev. ‘Reversed Five of Wands. How can you work on speaking up instead of avoiding conflict?’

‘I can’t, though.’

‘Sure you can. Maybe not in the public eye, but you can speak up in meetings, at family gatherings. How can you speak up?’

‘I can tell my dad to stop talking about André as my fly-swatter teammate when he talks to his friends.’

‘That’s a good start. What do you want him to say instead?’

‘Partner in crime. I’ve tried out a few things, and that feels most comfortable right now.’

‘Nice. Subtle. Tell your dad to call André that; don’t just tell him to stop calling him your tapette.’ She turned the rightmost card. ‘Reversed Eight of Pentacles.’ She looked up at André. ‘How can you plan better for the future, rather than being caught up in the daily whirlwind?’

André looked stumped. Jev stroked the back of his hand to comfort him.

‘I could start planning our sunglasses brand. I’ve wanted to do it since about six months now, and I haven’t got further than designs.’

‘So you have plans on the back end of the brand?’

‘Nothing more than thoughts.’

‘Put them on paper, so you can execute them.’

‘That makes sense to me. I’m not normally into woowoo stuff, but you’re right. Jev does put up with way more shit than he needs to just to avoid conflict, and I need to be more long-term in my planning.’

‘You’re right. My three favourite words.’ She winked up at André as she put her hand on the last card. ‘And now, for what you need to work on in your relationship, drum roll please.’ Jev drummed his fingers against the edge of the table until she turned the card over. ‘Nine of Pentacles. Keep pushing forward. This is the last stretch before your goal.’

‘So I win this weekend?’

She patted his hand.

‘You will walk to the place that is next on the path. It will be a good place for you.’

 

* * *

 

‘What do you want to plan in your future?’ Jev asked as they strolled back to where they had started their self-directed walking tour of Brooklyn’s top queer neighbourhood.

‘You. My car collection. Fucking you on, in, and up against my car collection.’

‘I’m being serious.’

‘So am I. I want us to be those old queers with great style and a house that magazine editors want to shoot.’

‘And a man cave for the cars.’

‘Just put a loft bedroom above the garage, and have a home cinema. I’m sure we can turn a warehouse garage into a decent living space. Put a mezzanine in for the bedroom, and the living space below that. We can put the projector up on the wall of the garage, and pretend we’re in a retro drive-in cinema.’

‘You mean live with the cars?’

‘Why not? The bed will be soft. I can bend you over one the cars for a change of scenery.’

‘We need a decent kitchen, living room, and garden for socialising.’

André squeezed Jev’s hand and nudged him with his shoulder.

‘Look at you, my social bunny.’

A male-bodied mannequin in lacy, grey panties caught Jev’s eye as they walked past a lingerie store. He stopped walking, and dropped André’s hand to go back for a second look. The fabric didn’t look like it was pulling over the bulge. _It’s not there as a gag. They actually fucking sell lacy pants that will fit me_. He became aware André was standing behind him when he ran his fingertips up his arms and kissed his shoulder.

‘I’ll only buy them for you if you promise to do qualy in them this weekend. For good luck. For being yourself.’ He ran his hands down Jev’s back, resting them on his hips. ‘Since that woman said you can only win the title if you’re living your truth, and the team are insisting that we sell our relationship as a bromance, we can break the rules and live your truth in ways the press can’t write about.’

Jev leaned back against André’s chest, tipping his hat off his head. André’s hand cupped the curve of his ass as he bent to pick it up. He leaned back into André’s embrace, sorting out his hat hair in the reflection in the window.

‘If I win the title on Saturday, you wear a pair to qualify on Sunday.’

‘Deal.’

André steered Jev into the store by his hips. A young woman with purple hair and an impressive array of tattoos and facial piercings stepped out from behind the counter, smiling at them. Her t-shirt had #ITMFA printed in giant, rainbow letters across the chest.

‘Hey y’all. What can I help you with today?’

André pointed at the mannequin in the window display. ‘My handsome partner in crime would like a pair of your pants.’

Jev squeezed André’s hand. ‘My handsome partner in crime would also like a pair, because I’m going to win our bet.’

She raised her eyebrows and smiled at them. ‘Well, you sound confident!’ She squinted at them. ‘You look familiar, but you’re not regulars here. Where do I know you from?’

André jerked his thumb over his shoulders. ‘Probably from the giant fucking billboards of us that the race organisers put up around the neighbourhood. But please don’t tell anyone that we’re...you know.’

‘In Brooklyn’s most discrete lingerie store buying things that are nobody’s business but your own and ours?’ She motioned zipping her lips. ‘Are you set on that particular style, or would you like to browse? We’ve got Brooklyn’s best selection of cock-friendly panties.’

André slid his arms around Jev’s waist, making him feel owned and safe.

‘Do you have any in gold?’ Jev asked. _Gold is for champions. Maybe if I wear it, my ass will have winning juju_.

‘Those would be some “happy Pride” panties!’ The girl tipped her head to the side. ‘I have a lycra-silk blend in gold. Solid fabric with lace around the legs and waistband.’

‘Sounds great.’

She looked at André. ‘And for you? Come and look in the T/NB section for something your boyfriend thinks would look good on you.’

‘Yes,’ Jev said to end André’s indecisive pause, unwrapping his arms and interlinking their fingers.

He led André as he followed the woman to the back of the shop. André picked up a pair of charcoal and sage panties. Jev rubbed the fabric between his fingers.

‘They’re acrylic.’

‘So?’

‘Fire safety.’

‘One, what are the odds anyone will even find out? Two, still can’t be printed in Autosport. At least, not in any kind of detail.’

‘Fuck the Man. We’ll take that pair and the gold ones.’

‘I’m fully with you on sticking it to the man,’ she said, grinning and pointing at her shirt. She handed Jev two boxes out of a drawer. ‘Can I tempt you into anything else to celebrate the bet y’all have going? Something else to play dress-up with, or maybe something from the toy section in the back?’

‘Do you…’ André kissed Jev’s neck, ‘…have a cat’s tail butt plug? Maybe a cheetah tail?’

‘If you’re willing to use your imagination, sure. It’s a little short and fluffy to be a legit cheetah, but y’all could pretend.’

‘One of them too. We haven’t been able to find any online.’

‘Ours are made by an artisan toy maker. He hates marketing – he wasn’t big on being a public figure before his voice started breaking from the T, even just around the neighbourhood, because autistic spectrum social anxiety stuff; now he’s just like “yikes!” – so he just brings what he makes here and we sell for him.’

‘We came to the right place then!’

‘For sure. We pride ourselves on having the most accessible store for both customers and suppliers.’ She pulled the longest cat’s tail off the rack, and scanned it. ‘How will you be paying?’

André nuzzled his face into Jev’s neck. ‘I'm going to fuck you in those pretty panties on the balcony of the hotel, overlooking the Hudson,’ André whispered into Jev’s ear as he handed her his bank card.

‘Does your toy maker make anything other than butt plugs?’ Jev asked.

‘Actually, his speciality is mechanical toys. Twist-to-retract lightsaber dildos and things.’

‘We’re getting a lightsaber dildo.’

‘Sure. What colour LED?’

‘Blue,’ André said. ‘He’s Jedi, not Dark Side.’

‘Good choice.’ She bagged up their shopping, dropped a card in the bag, and handed it to Jev. ‘The card’s in case you want to order something after your holiday is over. Enjoy your celebration!’

‘Oh, we will.’

André put his arm around Jev, guiding him out the store. Jev put his arm around André. He relished the brief moments of surreal normalcy like this. Knowing he had a steady anchor helped keep him grounded in all the chaos of the last few months. He squeezed André’s waist.

‘Je t’aime, André.’

‘Je t’aime aussi, mon mimichat.’

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: I changed "let me fuck you" to "I'm going to" at the end. I didn't realise that I was falling into a "butch people as hunters; femme people as prey" trope, in which women (or bottoms, or the more feminine half of the couple) are seen as the Keeper of the Sex, and choose who they "let" in, often in exchange for some kind of financial favour (even if it's just free drinks). It's disempowering to women, bottoms, etc. because it loses sight of their agency as sexual beings and their own desires for sex.


End file.
